


Marital Privilege

by BrandyFromTheBottle



Series: ABO Dark!verse [7]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ABO, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Father/Son Incest, Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, M/M, Mpreg, Sibling Incest, Stancest - Freeform, abo dark!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 23:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16607177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandyFromTheBottle/pseuds/BrandyFromTheBottle
Summary: An arranged marriage AU in the abo dark!verse. Because, why not?"You don't have to worry, I'm never going to touch you."





	Marital Privilege

The government is threatening to take Stanley away. 

Filbrick won't let the agents into the house, and gets into a screaming match with the man and the woman in black suits with black briefcases. The whole neighborhood watches from doorways and behind curtained windows as Ma tries to pull Filbrick inside and save whatever threadbare dignity is left clinging to the Pines family name. 

Ford is trying to keep Stan from charging downstairs and making everything worse.

“Who the hell do they think they are?” Stan snarls as he paces from one side of the room to the other. He steps are awkward; his center of gravity has gotten lower and heavier. It would be hilarious if every clumsy stumble didn’t serve to make Stan angrier.

“Sit down, Stan,” Ford tries to grab Stan’s arm on the next pass but Stan jerks away from him.

“Don’t!” Stan glares at Ford, rubbing his arm as if Ford's touch is a caustic irritant. Ford pats the space beside him on the bed instead of lingering on Stan's avoidance. Stan hesitates, eyes the empty space on the bed before he sits next to Ford miserably. His sudden weight makes the mattress jump and Ford tilts with a startled noise into his brother. 

“This fuckin’ sucks, Ford!” Stan groans. Ford clears his throat and wraps an arm around Stan’s shoulders, and this time Stan doesn't flinch away.

“I know,” he says. Stan grumbles, fists clenching on his knees.

“They just-” he hunches over, snarling. “Like I’m some kid in the ghetto or shit! It’s so stupid!” 

“I know,” Ford says again.

“They can’t actually do anything, right?” Stan looks at Ford, brows furrowed, eyes tight. He is afraid.

“It’s the law, Stan,” Ford looks down, and pulls his arm from Stan’s shoulder to place it over one of Stan’s fists. It slwoly relaxes and opens so that they can hold hands.

“It’s stupid,” Stan says.

 

People like Stan are rare enough that the hospital bribes Filbrick into letting them study Stan with the promise of monetary compensation. Ma pitches a fit when they want to draw material from the fetus, but Filbrick tells her they need the money and it happens.

Genetic testing is still new and imprecise but the doctors are able to compare the fetus to Stan's genetic makeup, trying to crack the code of impregnation without the pre-existance of a womb. The doctors are horrified that, instead of some medical breakthrough, they are forced to report to child services that Stan’s unborn child was fathered by a close relative. 

The only viable suspects are Filbrick and Ford, no matter how much Ma protests. She spits at the test results and demands they be rerun while decrying the whole process. Stan agrees with Ma, begging Ford to chime in on “ the science gizmo's broken or somethin', right Ford? This is crazy, Stanford, tell ‘em!” Ford looks past Stan and Ma and wishes he could see Filbrick's eyes behind the omnipresent sunglasses. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. Stan looks at him, betrayed and horrified and ill. It's all Ford can see until Filbrick slams him against a wall and Ma starts shouting at the three of them: Filrick, Ford, and Stan. Stan, who's moving to intervene between the Ford and their father like he isn't fattened by an unwanted, incestuous pregnancy.

Security pulls them all apart before anyone gets hurt. 

Stan gets dragged into protective service kicking and screaming. The Pines only get Stan back when Ford finds an archaic law pertaining to “incest in extenuating circumstances: coercion, estrus or rut, marriage.” It is anything but a happy reunion. Ma won't believe any of it, but the doubt grows daily. She tries to pretend everything is fine but she recoils from Stan when he isn't looking and then compensates by fawning over him until he flees to the bedroom he and Ford no longer share. 

Ford has been moved to the couch. No one says anything out loud but Ford finds that he is never alone with Stan anymore.  

The man and woman assigned to Stan’s case come back and serve Filbrick and Ma a stack of papers. Something about neglect and enough small misdemeanors to fill a book. It's enough to arrest Filbrick and threaten Ma.  

“Fuck,” Stan’s knee is jumping, his foot tapping anxiously against the bedroom floor as he chews at his nails. “Why are they doing this, Ford?” Stan's bitten his nails to the quick and tears at the skin around them until Ford grabs his wrist and looks critically at the damage.

“We need to do something about this,” Ford releases Stan, and starts looking for the first aid kit.

“Ford, focus!” 

“Let me take care of this,” Ford finds a few band-aids, coaxes Stan into letting him hold his hand still as he carefully wraps them. He stops when Stan starts to shake and the shouting's stopped.

 

The cheap lawyer the court gives them assures Filbrick and Ma that the court can't force her to testify against her husband, the both of them are protected as spouses. Ford is disgusted (and a little impressed) when Filbrick proposes the legal but taboo marriage between Stan and Ford. Stan won't say anything without a subpoena and if he asks it of Ford, Ford will stay silent, too. The law can't force them.

Besides, the whole town already thinks they've fucked, might as well make it official.

Stan rails against the marriage as “stupid” and “fucked” and “Ford do something!” 

“It's already been arranged,” Filbrick tells them when they are all seated at the kitchen table. “You sign these forms and we put this mess behind us.”

Filbrick pulls Ford before the ink has dried.

“This'll make him your problem, Stanford,” he warns. “If he screws up again, don't come running.” Ford says nothing, just goes to get Stan from the kitchen when it's all done. He tries not to think about the look of miserable self-loathing on his mother's face as she watches them.

“Not in my house,” she mumbles. Ford suppresses a noise of disgust.

 

The silence around them as they sit together on Stan's childhood bed is almost physical.

“You don't have to worry,” Ford breaks the silence. “I'm never going to touch you.” Stan snorts like he's too miserable to laugh.

“It’s the gut, right?” Stan settles a broad hand on his rounded stomach. Ford suppresses a shudder. “Thought so.”

“Don't be stupid,” Ford says. 

“You're stupid,” Stan snaps back and curls into himself. Ford chews on the urge to shout until it pops like a cyst and he can swallow it.

“I'm not going to touch you,” Ford says again. Stan shakes his head.

“You'll have to.” He says. “It's your job to-to take care of me.” Stan fists the material over his stomach. "Pops said so." 

“Stan.”

“I'm not gonna fight it, Ford,” Stan says. “I thought I would, but.” Stan shrugs weakly and smiles. He grimaces when Ford doesn't respond. “We can...the kid.” Stan grabs Ford's arm. “Do you want it?” Ford hates the grim determination in Stan's eyes.

“No.” He says honestly. Stan looks ill. Ford watches Stan watch the floor. “We'll give it to Ma,” Ford says. The hand around his wrist tightens into an unbearable vice.

“Yeah, that's,” Stan stops. Shakes his head. “I don't want it, Ford,” Stan whispers. Ford curls closer to his brother. “I hate it.” Ford hates it, too. 

“It's okay,” he says. “I'll take care of it.” Ford wraps himself around his brother and thinks. 

“The next one, Ford,” Stan whispers. “He'll be yours.” 

“I'm not going to touch you, Stan,” Ford says again. Stan snorts.

"Whatever you say, Ford."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while back for a tumblr prompt meme. Enjoy?


End file.
